


and time is taking its sweet time erasing you

by RaindropsOnRoses



Series: sad beautiful tragic [2]
Category: The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty
Genre: AGAIN I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH THIS BOOK SPOILS EMPIRE OF GOLD, Angst and Porn, Empire of gold spoilers, F/M, Spoilers for Book 3: The Empire of Gold, soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26128927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaindropsOnRoses/pseuds/RaindropsOnRoses
Summary: "And you've gotyour demons,And darlin' they alllook like me."Nahri finds Dara, for a moment.
Relationships: Darayavahoush e-Afshin/Nahri e-Nahid
Series: sad beautiful tragic [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1897300
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	and time is taking its sweet time erasing you

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to write this but then Taylor Swift released folklore and one thing led to another.
> 
> Do not read this if you haven't read Empire of Gold or don't wish to read smut.

Dara still wasn’t sure why he went to the trouble of building a campsite. He could spend his days on the wind, taking his old form whenever he needed, he told himself. Instead, he found himself clinging to old routines of setting up tents and campfires, sleeping beneath the stars of whatever point on the map he found himself.

Part of him suspected that it was the stars themselves, he would lie staring at them for hours. Sometimes, when his guard was down, too tired to prevent his darkest and most painful thoughts, he wondered if Nahri was looking up at those same stars. He imagined her looking up at them from the window of her new house, maybe as she brushed her hair and he felt some comfort to know that the constellations that he looked at were the same ones she would see. She would know them by names and hold them in her heart.

Right now, he was camping in one of the many deserts that stretched between Daevabad and Ta Ntry, it didn’t much matter to Dara what the mortals called it. He had been on the trail of rumours of a vessel for weeks. It would be his fourth returned if he was able to follow the rumours to a captured soul. Each time he wandered close to the border of the city to return them, he would find himself staring into the unknown, wishing he could cross and place them in Nahri’s hand himself.

The thought of that made him close his eyes, exhausted from travel and the weight of burying his hurt. For what purpose, he didn’t know, he didn’t have a companion to put on a front for. Only himself. Dara lay his head back against the small sand dune he’d lay down in to star gaze, sighing heavily, muttering to himself for his foolishness.

He could have been lying there for a moment, or hours but he only opened his eyes because he heard a sound in his tent. His eyes snapped open and his head tilted up to look at his tent. Pitched up in the dip between dunes, he had chosen this spot to provide some cover against passing travellers. A small fire roared just by the entrance, illuminating the tent flaps as they shifted in the light wind.

Perhaps it had been the breeze, he thought to himself. What a fool he was, startling at the whispers of the wind. Just as he was about to lay back his head and continue tormenting himself again, another sound that could not have been the wind came from the tent. The camel’s back firmly broken by that final straw, Dara jumped to his feet and pulled a dagger from his belt. He cautiously approached the tent, ready to defend his encampment against any encroachment.

Lingering by the entrance way for just a moment, he tried to hear for clues to his visitor. Perhaps it was just an animal, although he wasn’t sure what sort of creatures roamed these sands. A human seemed less likely, he would have surely detected a human waltzing into his camp to begin ransacking his tent. His skin prickled uncomfortably at the thought that it was a djinn, possibly an ifrit. His grip tightened on his dagger and his shoulders tensed.

“Stop.” He said as he stepped into the tent, making a clear show of his weapon. “Who are -“

Dara didn’t finish the sentence. In fact, he dropped the dagger into the sand in shock. There was a few moments where he thought that he would have to stop himself from falling from his knees in shock. “Nahri?”

It was her. There she stood in his tent, looking about like she owned the place. She wore a plain outfit fit for travelling and her hair tumbled down her back in the wild curls that he dreamed of. She hadn’t changed a moment since he’d left her. She didn’t even look sorry to have been caught going through his things. “What were you going to do with that?” She asked of the discarded dagger curiously, testing the point of an arrow against her fingertip as she did.

“I…” Dara had quite forgotten what he was going to do with the dagger, it was a faded memory. “I was not expecting to see you.” He confessed.

He wanted to ask her why she was here, how she was but his lips could not form the words. It was like his soul did not want him to ruin this moment with questions that would ruin it. Another part of him whispered that this was a trick, some sort of apparition by one of his tormentors.

“I am Nahri.” The woman responded, as if she heard his thoughts. She placed the arrow back in the quiver she’d just drawn it from and crossed the space between them. “I can prove it.” She whispered softly as she lay a hand over where Dara’s heart would beat. There was a sense of excitement in her eyes, teasing him.

“Then do so.” Dara whispered back, pleading with Nahri to provide him any proof that she was who she said she was. He would accept any proof no matter how flimsy he realised. Part of him didn’t care if this was a trick.

Nahri smiled and her hand slid from his heart to cup his cheek, her lips parted softly and Dara thought that she was going to speak. Instead she lifted herself onto her tip toes and pressed her lips to his. Dara moved a hand to her back to steady her, attuned to her sense of balance as their lips moved together. Even without words, her intent was clear. Could anyone but Nahri kiss him like this? That was the question and answer wrapped in one.

All questions fell away with that kiss, Dara could no longer bring himself to care about whether or how or why Nahri was here with him. The only thing that mattered was that she was. And he was instantly infected with the idea that it was only a matter of time before she wasn’t again. He had to make this time count, he told himself as he pulled away from the kiss.

Nahri was smirking, aware that she had satisfied his demand for proof. “This is certainly an upgrade from sleeping in ruins.” She commented, glancing around them. As she turned her head to look around, Dara pressed his face against her curls and let her smell wash over him. The tent was minimal but comfortable. Dara might have been on a mission of penance but he still afforded himself basic comforts. There was a decent place to sleep at the very least.

“It’s been lacking in one key element of that trip.” He assured her as his hands moved from her back to her sides, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into the fabric of her dress. “But that’s changed now.” He added.

Nahri turned her attention from the tent to him, their foreheads touching. “Have you been enjoying your travels? Seen any wondrous sights?” She asked curiously.

“A few approached wondrous, but nowhere I could go would be as wondrous as being by your side, little thief.” Dara reminded her. It was the truth, he could not think of a place on this world that would not be improved by Nahri’s presence. This rather drab section of desert had become the most shining centre of the universe to Dara now Nahri were here sharing it with him. She was charmed by his words, her eyes meeting the ground with a small smile.

“I have missed you, Dara.” She whispered softly, and Dara could have sworn there were tears on the edge of her words. “I wish I could stay longer…” She confessed.

“So soon?” He asked, his heart turning to ice. That sneaking suspicion that Nahri would not be here forever had been true, but he hadn’t expected her to be gone so quickly.

She shook her head, still looking at the ground. “Not yet.”

“But soon?”

“Yes.” She murmured, the word heavy as a punch against Dara’s chest. He let the pain settle for a few moments, nodding his head a few times leisurely and then moving his lips to press a kiss against Nahri’s forehead. He mulled over the new information, that she would be gone soon and decided that he would not spend time dreading that moment. It was coming soon enough, but he would not waste seconds waiting for it. “Dara…”

Whatever Nahri was about to say, Dara didn’t know. He covered her lips with his, threading a hand through her hair as he did. More intense than their first, Nahri melted into the kiss, wrapping her hands around the base of his neck to keep her against him. Dara pulled her closer, until there was nothing between them, Nahri on the tips of her toes and held up by Dara’s arm around her.

Since she was practically off the floor, Dara decided his next move would be to lift her off it completely. Moving his hands from her hair to the backs of her thighs to hoist her up, he encouraged her to wrap her legs around his waist. Her hair fell across his cheeks, shielding their kiss from the few stars that could still glimpse the inside of the tent. Nahri temporarily pulled away to giggle against his lips when her slippers fell from her feet as he lifted her, falling softly besides the abandoned dagger. She quickly returned to kissing him with the same determination to make moments count that Dara had.

Before he even realised what he was doing, Dara was laying Nahri on top of his bed. It was hardly the most elegant bed in all the world, more of a luxury bedroll for a picky soldier. In the time it took for him to carry her there, he’d conjured a multitude of pillows to make it more comfortable. She sunk into them with a sigh, her hair strewn across the jewelled coloured fabric. She smiled up at him softly, his knees either side of hers. Then she reached up and pulled him back down to her lips, her fingers entangled with his shirt.

Holding himself up with a hand on either side of her ribcage, a gap of only a few inches between them remained and yet Dara could still feel her warmth. Whilst he knew it could not parallel his own, hers was another kind, warmth of the soul. Dara fought the urge to groan as she placed a hand against his jawline to hold her against him as they kissed. The other hand sat on his shoulder, squeezing it softly like she was reassuring him.

And then she was pulling at the fabric and Dara realised her intent. He moved from her briefly to tug his plain shirt overhead and help her cast it aside. For a moment, she let her fingers dance over the bared skin, smiling at him like he were the only thing worth looking at in the universe. It was too much adoration for Dara and he busied himself by kissing her once more.

Kissing her felt as it once had in the cave. Euphoric, like he was chasing the high of some unnamed and undiscovered drug. He wanted to kiss every inch of her skin, Dara thought. The thought pleased him so he did just that. He pulled away from her lips to press hot, gentle kisses along her jaw and neck. One hand came from the floor to cup her waist and bring himself closer, closing the last sliver of space between them. Nahri hummed in delight as he did so, each spot of skin getting the same reverence as the last.

Dara didn’t stop until his lips met the soft fabric of her neckline, his plan meeting an unexpected snag. Nahri chuckled above him.

“What? No ripping it off?” She asked. When he looked up, her eyes were full of mischief, she was teasing him. The implication was clear, she wanted him to remove her clothes too.

“I’m not about to leave you without clothes. We are in the middle of nowhere.” He replied as he began to push her dress up, the soft fabric pliant to his will. Instead of watching as more and more of Nahri was revealed to him, he watched her watching him.

Her cheeks were slightly reddened but he was unsure whether it was exertion or blushing. Her hair framed her face, curls falling across her face. Once the fabric had bunched to her waist, Nahri took over and pulled the dress over her head and cast it aside with his shirt.

Dara had travelled with Nahri for weeks and this was the most he’d ever seen of her. She’d been so concerned with her reputation and he was so practiced in aloofness that they had maintained a respectful distance from one another. He would be lying if he said he’d never thought about it. But he’d certainly never made a habit of it. There was more behind his love than that.

Now he brushed a few fingers along her collarbone and down the valley between her breasts, echoing her earlier movements. Instead of kissing him or watching, she twisted from his grip and began to laugh breathlessly. The sudden unexpected movement startled Dara a little and he pulled his finger back, hovering just an inch above her skin.

“Sorry..tickles.” She giggled, smoothing out her expression as quickly as she could. Dara’s own face settled from concern that he’d caused discomfort to bemusement. He waited another moment until she’d completely recovered from her giggling fit before drawing a spiral in the same spot. Once again, Nahri giggled like a schoolgirl and twisted a little this way and that. “Stop!” She pleaded, her voice drowned in laughter.

Dara chuckled at her plea and did as she wished, cupping her breast instead and continuing to kiss her collarbone now the barrier of her dress was eliminated. Her fingers became tangled in his once more as he massaged one breast and began to kiss the other. A thumb came to draw soft circles around her nipple, glad to see that she was not ticklish there. Instead of giggles, he drew a soft moan from her lips and it was just as sweet.

Nahri sunk deeper and deeper into the pillows, watching Dara with hooded eyes. He glanced up once or twice, drinking in the sight of pleasure and knowing that he was the cause. Occasionally, she would whine or breath his name and he paused for just a moment to enjoy the feeling it gave him. He committed each and every moment to memory before moving on, determined.

The hand that had been massaging his breast travelled across her ribcage, counting the ribs as he went. His callouses against her soft flesh drew random paths, nonsensical patterns. Across the soft flesh of her stomach and the hard ridges of her hipbones until his fingers were pressed against her soft folds. He was delighted to find them already wet, already ready.

Nahri’s breath halted for a moment as he made a first, tentative movement, pressing his index finger against her flesh. He glanced up at her, giving her a chance to stop him. She exhaled sharply, before giving him an almost imperceptible nod.

That was all he needed, he bought himself up to place his lips on hers once more whilst he began to draw circles around her clit slowly, the perfect opposite to their kiss. That was all heat, give and take. Her hands placed themselves firmly on his shoulders, holding her to him like letting go would kill them both. His free hand propped himself up on his elbow, his fingers tangled in the ends of her hair.

He let her body tell him what she liked, noting how her hips moved against his fingers and adjusting ever so slightly. He explored her gently, discovering her body’s secrets. One hand teased her entrance, just the fingertip testing. He wanted to draw her pleasure out of her slowly, enjoying each little morsel like it was his last meal. Perhaps because he knew that it was the last he might ever see of her and the only time she would gasp his name like a lover.

Slowly, he eased a finger into her. It was his turn to groan as she enveloped him, so hot and tight around him. Without breaking the kiss, Dara could feel her smirking against his lips. He repaid her by pressing a second finger into her, working up his pace. Her hips moved towards him, as desperate for pleasure as he was to provide it. A perfect partnership, he thought for a moment.

There were no sounds in this desert apart from Nahri’s pleasured whines, his laboured breaths and soft background noise of the wind rolling across the sands. Nobody to hear them but him. Nobody in the world other than him would hear the sin and the holiness in Nahri’s voice when she finally pulled away from his lips. “Dara, I’m…right there…I” She whispered, her words an unholy jumble.

The only thing that he could do was hold her tight as she came apart in his arms. He could feel the sweat from her skin on his own. Some of her hair had stuck to her flesh, along with some sand that had made its way onto the bed. Despite this, she still had never looked more beautiful as when she let her head fall back against the pillows, her eyes closed and lips still parted slightly as she let her orgasm wash over her.

Dara kept his fingers moving, slowing his pace until he was sure that Nahri’s breath had evened out. His fingers retraced their paths back up her body until they were at her waist, keeping her close. She had a smile on her face that reminded him of the moments before she made mischief with a thin layer of exhaustion on top.

With a sated sigh, her entire body sunk into the bedroll and it was all Dara could to join her, letting his full weight fall besides her. A single thought conjured a blanket over the pair of them, soft wool that Nahri nuzzled into, tangling her limbs into the warmth it provided.

The bedroll was not made for two, so it was a tight fit between them. Dara moved his hand from between her legs and cupped her waist, not a breath of space between them. Nahri smiled and brushed some of his hair from his face. Her thumb brushed along his cheekbone, her eyes intent. It was like she was looking for something in his face that nobody else could see.

“You seem tired, Afshin…” She told him softly, her voice no louder than the wind. “You should sleep.” She whispered gently.

He wanted to protest, tell her that he was not tired and he wished to stay up with her until the sun broke and set again. But as soon as Nahri spoke, Dara was aware of how exhausted he was. A bone tiredness had settled over him in the moments after Nahri had suggested how tired he looked. He was not sure he had felt this tired in years.

His head was already falling into the pillows, his eyes slowly closing. He tried his best to focus on Nahri, drink in the final sight of her looking at him like he was the night sky. Her eyes were full of wonder and of love. Nahri’s thumb came to brush his tattoo and he smiled tiredly. He wanted to tell her not to go, to stay with him. To break the promises that they had made to each other, the commitments that they had sworn to others.

Once again, as if she heard his thoughts, she spoke calmly. “I’m right here…” She assured him, lulling him to sleep. The last thing he thought or felt before he fell into dreams was Nahri’s curls against his skin, noting how pleasant it felt to have her this close. Just once.

When he woke, the sky was still dark with the promise of sunrise. The stars were visible from the open entrance of his tent and Dara was alone in the bed. He’d known before he opened his eyes, felt the absence of her warmth and her weight against him.

Dara reached out a hand to the space where Nahri had been, gathering the blanket she had slept under in one hand and letting out one steady breath. He’d known when he’d fallen asleep that she would not be here when he woke. But knowing it and living it were two different things and the weight of it was heavy on his chest.

There was no evidence that Nahri had been there and Dara decided not to torment himself with deciding whether she had been or not.

Instead, he lay in the bed and imagined her slowly untangling their limbs.

Finding her discarded dress and replacing it.

Running her fingers through her curls and smoothing out the dress.

Padding over to her slippers and carefully shaking out the sand before she put them on.

And disappearing from his tent like a ghost or a whisper or an answered prayer.

He imagined that wherever she had gone to, she would look up and see the same stars as he did.


End file.
